


Do you think we should meet?

by LadyJessYU



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, F/M, trying something not sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJessYU/pseuds/LadyJessYU
Summary: Michael is that blond-ish guy form one episode in season 7, Victoria’s associate or something played by Simon Arblaster (if anyone's interested). Let's pretend that Ivy's sister is the Anastasia from Once upon a time in Wonderland. It fits better within the context of the story.





	1. Chapter 1

“’A man who once claimed that the air in America was ‘a little too clean for optimum health’, has been appointed to an advisory board of America's Environmental Protection Agency.’ Can you believe this?!”

Henry couldn’t say that this was the first time he woke up to his girlfriend marching around their little condo, reading the latest news. It was sure more effective than the alarm, “What’s going on?”

She hopped on the bed. “And listen to this – ‘Speaking to the American Association for the Advancement of Science in 2012, Mr Phalen has also argued that the risks associated with modern particulate matter are ‘very small and confounded by many factors’.”

“Oh, yeah.” he kissed her cheek. It was 7.30, “This country’s going to hell.”

“You know what this is? The end of the world as we know it.”

“Hey, aren’t you late?” he headed for the bathroom.

“I was on my way. Sushi tonight?” he heard as she was opening the door.

“Sushi. Buy.”

She closed the door. He spat out toothpaste. He checked the door viewer peep hole. She was already gone. He then peeped through the curtains and saw Violet rush towards the subway entrance. Just to be sure, he waited 10 more seconds. Great!

He sat at his desk, opened the laptop and pressed the button. The most awaited part of the day could officially start, “Come on!” he whined. The old thing was taking too long. He really needed to buy a new one.

When the email account finally opened he hooted. There it was, “Patch, we’ve got mail!”

The dalmatian propped his front paws on the table and excitedly looked between the screen and his master. Henry wanted to believe that Patch understood everything.

After a whole long week, he got mail from SeattleGirl67. Subject read ‘Fall’. The mail from her always got him feeling all excited and kind of nervous.

‘Don’t you just love Seattle in the fall? Every day, on my way to work, I pass this old, Italian street vendor – Beatrice. I recently discovered that her husband’s name is Dante. Isn’t that just incredible? I like to imagine they are _the_ Dante and Beatrice who found each other in another life. Yesterday, I saw her wrapped in a red shawl with golden seams, roasting chestnuts. That sweet, earthy smell filled my nostrils and I knew – it’s fall. I would send you a portion of the best roasted chestnuts, if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms.’

Henry smiled and hit the reply button. The keyboard typing sound filled the room.

*

‘The fall is truly a magnificent time.’ he thought as he walked the streets of Seattle.

“Good morning, Alice.” he chirped.

“Good morning, Henry.” his employee replied, looking up from the Rubik’s cube.

“It’s a beautiful day. Smell this.” he handed her roast chestnuts, “Isn’t it just the most beautiful day?”

“Sure… I guess.”

The screeching of tires sounded through the streets.

“Watch it, you moron!”

“I got the green light!”

But Henry heard none of that as he opened his bookstore, “Isn’t Seattle in the fall the best?”

Henry loved his little store. It had that antique-y look that reminded him of his grandfather’s pawnshop. Only, it was far less gloomy. This was the place where he wrote his first published story. He took the vase to refill the water. The flowers were still fresh. Great! Then, he remembered, “Do we have Dante?”

“What?”

“Alighieri. You know… the Italian guy, Divine comedy, La vita nuova?”

“I know but…” Alice’s curious expression grew. Henry was acting too strange, “this is a children’s bookstore. What is going on with you?”

“Nothing.” he went behind the counter to turn on the register.

“You’re in love.”

“What? No!” Henry took a bite of chestnut. It brought him back to his childhood days, “Yes, actually! I’m in love with Violet. I’m living with Violet. Hmm…. Did you get our Christmas mailer out?”

“I will by Monday, I promise. I have this paper due in couple of days and it’s gonna drive me mad I tell you.”

Beatrice and Dante. Henry chuckled. What were the odds?

Alice sat cross legged on the counter, “What is going on?!”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

“You know I’m just gonna stare at you until you tell me?”

“All right.” he believed her, she was obstinate like that. And he really wanted to talk to someone other than Patch about it. Because he had doubts, he wanted to stop so many times. Well, he didn’t want to but he did think it would be the right thing to do, “Is it cheating if you are involved with someone on e-mail?”

“First of all, e-mail? Are we in the 1990s? Second, have you had sex?”

“No! I don’t even know her. And I happen to think email is an underrated form of communication. ”

“That is not really a requirement for sex, but ok. And I meant cybersex.”

“Oh… no.”

“Well, don’t do it. Is not as fun as it sound. Or do it. Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea. “

“Um…” Alice’s sex life was not something he wanted to know the details about, “But it’s not like that, anyway. We just e-mail. It’s nothing. It’s less than nothing. I’m thinking about stopping actually because it’s getting-”

“Out of hand?”

“Confusing.” the most exciting part of his life shouldn’t be a message from a stranger whose avatar was pink lipstick, “But it’s not because it’s nothing.”

“Whatever you say. Where’d you meet her?”

“I can’t remember… fine, that’s a lie.”

Alice grinned.

“Couple of months ago, I went on that blind dating site thing, as a joke of course. And there was ‘turning thirty’ tag. She was there and we started chatting about books and music and how much we like the city… and this sounded so much better in my head.”

Alice agreed.

“It’s meaningless and harmless.” he chuckled again, “Beatrice and Dante.”

“And now you lost me again.”

“Forget it. The point is we don’t talk about personal things. I don’t know her name, age, what she does so it will be really easy to stop seeing her because I am not.” it really would be, it dawned on him. So easy.

“That’s why I go on Tinder. My dates may be mad as hatters but at least I know what they look like. Your girl can be the next person to walk into the store.”

“I know.” it was kind of exciting.

“She could be…” as if on cue, the bell rung and another employee walked in, “Bo.”

“Mornin’.”

“Hey, Bo.” Alice hopped off the counter, “Are you online?”

‘Please say no. please say no.’

“As far as I’m concerned, the Internet is just another way of being stood up or forced to pay diner because some bloody wanker forgot to bring you in on dine and dash. Why?”

“No reason. We were just talking about cybersex.”

“Oh, come on!” Henry rolled his eyes.

“I tried that once. Kept getting a busy signal. One time-“

“Time to open up!” Henry shouted hoping to stop whatever that story was. Couple of kids were already waiting to buy school supplies, “Anna, Ellie what can I do for you today?”

“Hi, Henry.” The twins rushed past by him.

The work day could officially begin.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Michael is that blond-ish guy form one episode in season 7, Victoria’s associate or something played by Simon Arblaster (if anyone's interested). Let's pretend that Ivy's sister is the Anastasia from Once upon a time in Wonderland. It fits better within the context of the story.

Ivy was a morning person. She liked to get up earlier, turn on KEXP radio, get ready for work, then spend couple of minutes scrolling through her Instagram feed and enjoying a cup of black tea in silence. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, was not. It was 8.15 already and he still hasn’t gone to work. In the days of being her mother’s assistant, Ivy was in the office at 7.30 sharp, only her and the doorman. Now, working on her first solo project, she was due at the site at 9. Truthfully, she didn’t really like when he would stay the night.

“I’m almost ready.” she heard his voice from the bathroom, “Did you turn it on?”

“I did.”

“Did you push it?”

“The coffee’s ready, Michael.” she shouted. She didn’t like this shouting; it made her feel some they were some rednecks on a farm.

“I am so late.” he ran into the kitchen looking for coffee. “‘Random House’ fired Tillman. Thank God, I don’t have to see his stupid face ever again.” he took a sip and run back for his briefcase, “Malcolm got his job so he’s gonna be insufferable. Don’t forget tonight, PEN dinner.”

“I’m invited to that?” she never got the invite before.

“You’re my girlfriend.” he kissed her, “Of course you are. Got to run.”

So she wasn’t invited after all. Her mother and Anastasia definitively got their invites. Jacinda was probably still getting hers as well, despite the fact she hadn’t been a part of that world for nearly a decade. She wished she was invited as Ivy Belfrey, not as Michael Griffiths’ plus one. She wanted to sit there with all those boring, snooty people and support whatever the cause of the day was.

But at the moment, that didn’t bother her much because she was finally alone and she could finally check her e-mail and hopefully see a reply from TruestBeliever.

She logged onto her account. There it was, the reply, 23 minutes ago.

'I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends - as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names and met on a dating site where we both claimed we'd never been before.

What will SeattleGirl67 say today, Patch and I wonder. Patch is my dog. He loves Seattle as much as I do – although he likes to chase ducks around Volunteer Park, and I prefer to feed them. He is a really bad catcher and instead of playing for the Seattle Mariners, he spends his days sleeping on a large blue pillow the size of an inner tube.

Anyway, I turn on my computer, I wait impatiently as it boots up. As I log into my account, I hold my breath until I see that I’ve got mail. In that moment I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Seattle, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you.'

*

Ivy rushed down the streets, past the flower shops, a sushi restaurant and markets. She just waved at Beatrice, no time for stopping because she might have spent too much time rereading the mail.

She entered her three-storey building. She liked to call it hers since this was where she would open the first major ‘Belfrey Books’ store.

She was greeted by her sister who would come from time to time to help and see how things were going. She had managed her share of solo projects before and was now working solely on her own wedding. “The electrical contractor called, his truck hit a deer last night. So, he’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Mhm.” he thought of her as oldest and dearest friend. She supposed they were friends of sort. She had shared with him the little quirks that nobody had ever seen.

“Upstairs shelves are late because the pine you ordered has beetles.”

“Good, that’s very good.”

“And a 50.000 dollar ticket just arrived because a construction worker was peeing off the roof. I left the honor of firing him to you, of course.”

“Great.” she looked around, nobody was working inside, “Where is the electrician?”

“I just told you he hit a deer. I knew you weren’t listening.”

“You’re right.” she laughed, “‘I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Seattle, just the beat of my own heart.’ I think that’s how it goes.”

“Oh, no.” Anastasia flopped on a nearby chair, “It’s happening.”

“What is?”

“Your head is in the clouds, you’re not being a control freak… did the David Beckham lookalike asked you to move in or something?”

“Move in with Michael? Are you crazy?”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do, of course I do. Michael is amazing, he’s hot, successful, he scored very high on my check list.” she really didn’t want to talk about Michael. She should get her mind back on the business, “We should announce ourselves to the neighborhood. Let them know we’re coming.”

“This is Hyperion Heights. You might as well tell them you’re opening a crack house.”

“Oh, you’re right. They are going to hate us, our big bad chain store and cheap books.” Ivy halted. It finally hit her. Yes, it all made sense now, “Mother wants me to fail.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“She gave me a bookstore, Anastasia. Do you know who reads paper books in 21st century?”

“You’ll do well.” her sister deflected the question, “And mother will be proud.”

“Sure she will – all I have to do is beat Amazon and Kindle and do that in this dying neighborhood.”

“I thought you said Hyperion Heights is charming.”

“It is, just not for business.” maybe she should cash in her trust fund, run off somewhere and live her life as a simple cashier. Jacinda didn’t seem to mind that sort of life.

Her sister faced her, “No. Don’t go there. Remember what we talked about.”

“We’re going to seduce them with our style, cozy reading nooks, discounts...“ she recited half-heartedly.

“And?” Anastasia grinned.

“And our cappuccino.” her lips twitched upwards. Her phone beeped, “Got to go.” she waved her sister.

She didn’t need to explain further, Anastasia knew exactly what that nervous, hurried pace implied.

*

The Belfrey tower was a thing of marvel, the tallest building in the city. She felt less stressed out being her mother’s assistant then now that she had to answer to her about the project.

“Construction is going without a glitch. We should open on time.” fake it until you make it.

“You will open on time.” her mother corrected as she watched the city stretch in front of her.

“Of course. Cheap books and legal addictive stimulants is a winning combination.” she put on that fake smile she hated, “Although, I am a little concerned about the neighborhood response. This new sofa’s confortable. What’s the name of the material?”

“Money. Anastasia and Hans ordered one for their new house as well.” her mother resented any form of small talk, “What is the status on ‘City Books’ on 6th?”

“It’s going under.” one real, good news at least, “We are going to buy their whole inventory on architecture and Seattle history. It’s quite an impressive collection from what I’ve seen so far.”

“How much are we paying?”

Less than the hideous sofa, she presumed, “Everything’s half off. You can see it in the report.”

“Another independent bites the dust. Good.”

She didn’t want to miss her mother’s mildly good mood, “And we will have a section dedicated to the Seattle writers. To appease the crowd.”

“Yes, you have to keep those liberal, pseudo-intellectuals-”

“Readers. They like to be called readers.”

“Don’t romanticize the business, Ivy. That is how you fail. Now, who’s left?”

“There’s one called ‘Olympus Books’, but that is more or less taken care of. And some little store on the corner of 5th and Washington, children’s bookstore – ‘The Enchanted Forest’. It’s been there forever. A woman Belle French used to run it. I think her grandson is the official owner now.”

Victoria scoffed, “Fascinating story. Take him down.”


	3. Chapter 3

Ivy wished she could go back in time and un-wish being invited to PEN dinner. She strutted around with Michael, her mother and the newly engaged Anastasia and Hans, she smiled and nodded and chatted and had never been more bored in her life. She couldn’t wait for it to be over and just to hit the bed. It wasn’t all because of those people. She grew up surrounded by them. She was one of them. It was mainly because of Hans. She never liked him and could only handle him in small doses. In her mind, she referred to him as chameleon. He knew how to be whatever the situation required. Normally, Ivy would have admired that if not for the inkling that he was not capable of being genuine even around closest people, most importantly Anastasia. She had made a mistake on commenting on that not long after her sister introduced him to the family. After that, Anastasia didn’t speak to her for a month. So, she snuck out of the party, she’d never done that before, and went online.

'My sister is getting married. She’s been living for a year with a guy who shares fashion sense with my mother and therefore must be universally accepted by the family.'

She just wanted to say something, to someone. To simply put those thoughts out there. She had the feeling that one little note, void of too personal details, would be enough for TruestBeliever to understand. Was she getting attached to this mystery person more than she should? Probably. Did she care? Not in the slightest.

*

Henry lived near enough to the bookstore so he rarely took subway. When he was a student he had to commute a long way, and the train became a sort of moving study for him. There, he would watch people go in and out and think about their stories. Some ended up in his short stories. That was when his writing didn’t consist of chunks of disconnected chapters and a first sentence ‘Poetic opening line goes here…’. Now, he would ride the subway only once a month, to the port where Killian’s boat had been docked for the last 2 years. But every now and then, a subway ride would bring something magical.

'I read somewhere that things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, one way or another. And today it sort of happened. Do you know how many scarfs I lost in the subway? I stopped counting after a while. I often seem cursed when it comes to that. I was about to get off on the 9th when I saw a scarf – shade and pattern just like mine. If you ever pass by the homeless guy carrying a ‘Save the fairies’ sign, you will see it around his neck (and I do believe he means actual fairies, wings and all).'

*

From: SeattleGirl67

To: TruestBeliever

Subject: Flour

'I tend to return late home from work. I pass by this little bakery when a truck pulls up and pumps about a ton of flour into underground tanks. The air is filled with white dust, and it's absolutely amazing. Like those scenes from the old movies when the main character emerges from the mist. Or maybe I’m just overworking myself and have started hallucinating.'

*

The doorbell rang. Was it 9 already? It was Michael, they had a date night. More precisely, a stay in night.

He kissed her hello. "What’s that?"

"Oh." she looked in her hands, "A book."

"I hope that is not for tonight because I brought wine. Are you doing some research?"

"No, I just felt like reading something."

"Since when do you read books?"

"I’m in the book business, Michael."

"I mean I haven’t seen you read novels. For fun."

"I figured should get back to reading."

Two days ago Ivy had recieved a mail.

'Confession. I have read ‘The little prince’ about 200 times. I read it as a kid and even now, with every new read, I discover something fresh, silly and profound at the same time. I'm always in agony over what will happen with the rose and the prince. Read it. I know you'll love it.'

She was half way through. It had some great parts sure, but she didn’t exactly love it. Maybe she lacked that childlike imagination it required, or maybe she just had too many real-life things drown her dreams to make believe in anything resembling magic.

*

As the time was passing, the big, gray, ugly building near his bookstore was becoming something else. Henry wouldn’t have paid much attention to it until it opened, but one morning Alice ran into the store.

"Guys, you have to see this."

Henry and Bo scurried after her

She was standing in front of that gray building that now had ‘Belfrey Books superstore. Coming soon.’ written in big, bold red letters, staring at it in awe.

Well, that was just what he needed. Henry thought and sighed.

"A bloody nightmare." Bo voiced his thoughts.

"It has nothing to do with us." he had to stay optimistic, "It’s big, impersonal, overstocked and full of ignorant salespeople."

"But they discount."

"Thank you, Alice. You always know what to say. The point is they don’t provide any service and we do. It’s good actually. You know like there’s a flower district, this will be the book district. If they don’t have it, we do."

"And vice versa."

"Absolutely!" he exclaimed way too cheerfully.

Sadly, the optimism (both real and false) was dwindling as the day was progressing. By the time he got home, he was practically desperate and couldn’t stop complaining to Violet.

"When you are finished with Belfrey books, 'The Enchanted Forest' will be responsible for bringing joys of magic back to the western civilization."

"It’s sweet of you that you’re trying to cheer me up, Vi." he wrapped his arms around her, "Thank you. What’s that?"

"Oh." she squealed and sat by her new baby as she liked to call it, "It’s a laptop that runs on solar energy. Look! Isn’t it amazing?"

"Yeah, it feels so familiar, like I’ve seen or heard about it. I wonder…" he walked to the bedroom and returned with her other laptop, "Oh, yeah. Here it is!"

"I needed a back-up."

"Sure."

"I write columns about preserving energy and saving the environment. If I have to live in a technological corporate world, I will at least do as little damage as possible. And what were you gonna say?" Violet quickly diverted the attention from herself.

"Um... When?"

"Before."

"Nothing."

"Come on."

"It’s- I’m just wondering about my work and all. You are out there writing and exploring things you genuinely care about. And what is it that I do exactly? All I really do is-"

"All you really do is…" she took his hands, "This incredibly noble thing."

"I don’t know. I-"

"Henry, please." she used the serious voice. Henry knew better than to try to interrupt her, "You are a lone rider, riding proudly, bringing the magical worlds of books to life. Your store is the oasis in the corrupt desert of commerce."

"I’m a lone rider?" he liked that, it sounded heroic.

"You are a lone rider." she opened her new laptop, "I should write that down, that was good."

That really was good. Violet’s support meant much to him. However, it couldn’t help him sleep soundly. It was the middle of the night and he had already watched three episodes of Vikings, rummaged through the fridge twice and went through his last years sales numbers. He logged onto his account. What’s the harm anyway. Writing to SeattleGirl67 was really the only thing he had the will to do at that moment.

'Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So goodnight, dear void.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this is mostly filler-ish chapter, but the next one is when they meet


	4. Chapter 4

Now when she was more or less her own boss, Ivy had Sundays to be her me-days. She would spend the entire day cooped up in her apartment, wearing pajamas, or after a particularly long week she would go for a spa treatment. When on rare occasions the whether allowed it, she would go to the beach. But not this Sunday.

"Thanks again, Ivy." her stepsister repeated.

"Yeah." Ivy rolled her eyes, "So remind me again how I got goaded into doing this? Couldn’t that neighbor of yours babysit?"

"I’m going with Hans and Anastasia to cake tasting. Sabine knows this guy who makes amazing wedding cakes."

"Perfect. You are going to eat cakes all day and I’m stuck with the little ghoul."

Lucy grinned.

Jacinda, knowing well not to take Ivy's words to heart, hugged her 6-year-old daughter, "I’ll see you tonight, Lucy. Listen to your aunt Ivy, ok?"

Lucy put her small hand into Ivy’s as she waved her mother goodbye.

“Ok Lucy, are you ready for the makeover?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? We always do our hair and nails.”

“No.”

“What happened to you?” she loved when she and Lucy would go and chose nail polishes, “What happened?”

What happened was that there was a sort of fair going on in Hyperion Heights, the one Ivy thought she would avoid since it was a weekend thing.

They took a selfie with Mickey and Minnie Mouse. Lucy rode the carousel and Ivy was perfectly content to just take pictures. They bought ice cream and toffee apples because why should the two of them miss on all the sweets (and diet be damned). They got animal shaped balloons. Being the most persuasive child on the planet, Lucy made them both get their faces painted. Maybe getting Lucy high on sugar early on was a bad idea.

Half of Lucy’s face was done, a butterfly wing, when another man started moving a painting brush towards Ivy's cheek. She flinched. Who could know what was in that paint? “You see this face? You see this skin?” she growled at the man, “Ruin it and I will end you.”

“Aunt ivy!”

“Fine… just the nose and whiskers.” she forced her lips into a smile and added a 'please'.

Well, that was one of the more terrifying experiences of her life, Ivy thought as they rounded the corner, “Let’s go see a movie? How about that?”

“No, there’s nothing good playing.”

Ivy was beginning to believe Jacinda bought Lucy word of the day calendar for kids and today's word just happened to be 'no'.

“Look – storybook time!”

She looked at the sign. They were just 5 minutes late. The bookstore was ‘The Enchanted Forest’. She might as well check them out. She was planning to, anyway.

As the kids were listening to a young man read 'The secret diary of Adrian Mole', Ivy skimmed through their book collection. They really had some impressive copies and first additions Ivy would like to have in her possession. They were, however, impressively expensive as well.

That was because, as the blonde girl explained, the illustrations were hand-tipped, “That is why they are worth so much.” she elaborated.

“Sure.” Ivy overheard Lucy adding another book to the pile and made that her exit strategy, “I’ll think about it.”

The storybook guy was finishing explaining the complexities of Narnia. Lucy sneezed and he handed her the handkerchief (Ivy hoped it was allergies because she didn't have the luxury to catch the flu), “But that’s a lot of books for your mom to buy at once.”

“My mom loves to buy me books.”

“Well…” he looked at Ivy and smiled, “That’s very nice of her.”

Lucy giggled, “Oh, that’s not my mom. That’s my aunt.”

“Yes, this is my stepsister’s kid. We are a bit atypical family.”

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me about atypical families.” yhe storybook guy chucked, “Believe me. Anyway...” he looked over Ivy’s shoulder, “Alice, pack these books Butterfly girl and Cat woman.”

Ivy raised her eyebrow. 

He gestured to her face paint, “I’m into comic books.”

“I can tell.” she couldn’t stop staring at the guy, “May I ask who you are?”

“Um, yeah, sorry. I’m Henry Mills. I own this store. And you are?”

Of course he was the owner. And she was the Belfrey girl who would put him out of business by the end of January, by her estimate, “Ivy. Just call me Ivy.”

“That will be 73 dollars.” the girl, Alice, said. That was way too much. Now that she rethought, this bookstore would not last until Christmas, “You’re gonna come back, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” she smiled and handed her a hundred dollar bill.

“See? That is why we’re not gonna go under. Our customers are loyal.”

“They are opening a Belfrey books down the street.” Henry explained.

“Belfrey books?! My grandma-”

Ivy put a hand over Lucy’s mouth. She really didn’t want to have a confrontation or something, “Likes to buy discount. But don’t talk about that, Lucy. That is not something to be proud of.”

“But-”

She took her niece to the nearest pile of books, “Why don’t you choose another book until I finish the chat with Henry over there, ok? And don’t listen to anything I say.”

Luckily, Lucy was already not listening, she was flipping through 'Anne of Green Gables'.

“Sorry about that. She’s on a sugar rush.”

“It’s fine. You know, the world is not driven by discounts. I have been in this business forever. I would spend my holidays helping grandma and I used to watch her. She wasn’t just selling books. She was helping people become whatever they were going to turn out to be. Because when you read a book as a kid, it becomes part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your life does- I’ve gotten carried away, haven’t i?”

“Yeah.” he was dreamy and passionate. Perfect, “Yeah, you have. You’ve made me feel… Is that your grandma?”

Henry looked the photograph behind him, “Oh, yeah. That’s taken on my first day as her helper. Anyway, she left the store to me and I’m gonna leave it to my kid.”

So, she was not just taking the source of income from him, but from his child as well. It was nothing personal, it was business. Sometimes, she really hated the business, “How… how old is your kid now?”

“I don’t have a kid now. I’m not married but one day… I hope. But 'Belfrey books' can go to hell, you know.”

“Sure.” this conversation was on the verge of getting out of hand, “Lucy, let’s go.”

Lucy grabbed the cotton bag, that was a nice touch. She should get those for the store.

“Bye Lucy.”

“Bye!”

“Bye Ivy.”

As Ivy turned to toss one last look at Henry Mills, she nearly walked into the door frame. Way to go, Ivy.

Henry watched after them and smiled. That was a nice chat.

“If you won’t say it I will.” Alice chirped from behind the cash register, “She’s hot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I messed with ages a bit (as I will later on) so Lucy's a bit younger 'cause it fits better in my head.


	5. Chapter 5

It was the day of the grand opening (35% off on all bestsellers). Ivy was responsible for every coffee cup, every cookie, every book in every department, every nook and cranny. Her sister came as support, her mother to assess the situation.

People were buzzing about, everything was going as planned. “No protests, no demonstrations. They love us. They are wondering how they lived without us all these years.”

“It’s a hit.”

Her mother hummed in agreement, “The children’s department looks deserted.”

Ivy was afraid of that, “It’s early. The school’s not out yet. And there’s that children’s bookstore down the street.”

“I thought I told you to take care of that.”

“I can’t just call a guy to wreck it, mother. Give it some time and the law of supply and demand will take its course.”

“I certainly hope so. I wouldn’t want to have to clean up your mess.”

Ivy sank her nails into her palms, “Of course, mother.”

*

“Hello, Henry. How are you?”

“Hi, grandma Belle. I’m good. Going to a party with Violet tonight, actually. You? How are grandpa and Gideon?”

“They are working on some project in the pawnshop. It’s a surprise form me, but I’m not supposed to know about it.”

Henry chuckled, “That’s great. I can’t wait to see the guy in two weeks. He’s coming, right?”

“Of course. He’s been talking about it constantly.”

“August came to the store this morning. He’s publishing a new book in January.” this was the part of the conversation he feared. But it was the one he had to have, “He asked me if we’re gonna be open then.”

“That’s a silly. Why would he ask that?”

Henry took a deep breath. “‘cause some big bookstore opened a week ago and we’re already losing money. But it’s probably just a fluke.”

“Oh.”

“Grandma?”

“Yes, Henry?”

“What if it’s not?” he hated himself and the Belfreys. This would break his grandma’s heart, “You gave me a store and I’m gonna lose your legacy.”

She laughed. That was the last thing he expected, “Is that what you’re worried about? Don’t. Whatever happens, it is meant to be. My life is in Storybrooke now. And I am happy with my family, that’s all I need. Just as your life is in Seattle. All you have to do is find happiness and not worry about things.”

It seemed like he was away from his family too long because his optimism and faith was in short supplies, “I guess.”

“Don’t doubt yourself, Henry. Or I will talk to your mothers.” she teased.

“No more doubting, got it.”

“Good. Now go get ready for the party and enjoy yourself. You’re fine.”

They said their goodbyes and he into the living room.

“You ok?” Violet asked.

He smiled and said, “I’m fine.”

*

Despite showing up to every one she could, Ivy generally did not like parties. She was a good conversationalist, she had a pretty nice smile and she could pretend to be interested in every story if she put a little effort in it. This semi-formal party had too many suspenders and beanie-wearing intellectuals. And if it weren’t beanies, it was buns. She loved fashion and new trends but this was just too much. And truthfully, it was getting old. Her mind was barely focusing on the rehearsed gestures and phrases and her eyes were searching the room. For what, she could not tell. Something different, something new. Just something not expected. Then she saw it. Something she most definitely did not expect. Henry Mills. What the hell was he doing there? Clearly out of place, he was looking around and Ivy had to escape his line of sight. She ducked and took a fast turn, hoping for the best.

“Scotch.” she ordered at the bar, “Neat.”

“A beer.” she heard a familiar voice couple of seconds later.

The universe was surely not on her side. She tried to hide her face as inconspicuously and possible but to no avail.

“Oh, hello.”

“Hi!” she feigned surprise, her voice carried an unnatural pitch.

“Hi. Remember me from the bookstore?”

“Of course I remember you. Yes.” and unfortunately he remembered her as well.

“How’s Lucy?”

“She’s great.” her drink was finally ready. It was like they were making it from scratch, “I better go. I’ve abandoned my date for too long.”

“Ivy? It’s Ivy, right?”

“And you are Henry.” and with that she left.

“Henry Mills.” he said to no one. Well, that sucked. When he saw her he was hoping to have another chat. Not that they had had some particularly exceptional chat in the store, but she seemed nice. At least there was Sabine. She was catering the party. He met her a few years ago. Sabine’s beignets were the best in town.

“Hi again. How are things going?”

“You really are the nicest person.”

“Um…thanks?” did people just decide to be strange this evening and forgot to tell him?

“I mean if I met a person who was ruining my business I wouldn’t be all smiles.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you and Ivy Belfrey.”

“Ivy Belfrey? Bel… Belfry as in-”

“As in she’s taking over the neighborhood.”

He took a huge swig of the beer and went to search for the girl in a black pencil skirt.

“Ivy Belfrey?”

“Yes?” she looked at him with disinterest. There was no surprise or anything.

“You are Ivy Belfrey?”

She was still nursing the glass of scotch, “Yes.”

“I didn’t… wow! I didn’t know I was being Vito Corleone-ed.”

Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“It’s from 'The Godfather'. When the godfather sends Tom Hagen for the movie producer, just before the horse’s head…” she kept looking at him like he was on something. He shook his head, “Doesn’t matter. You were spying on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you came with your ‘niece’.”

“Why would I spy on you?”

“Because I’m your competition, of course.”

She exhaled slowly, “Listen, the reason I came into your store is because I was spending the day with Lucy. I was buying her stuff. I am the type of person who buys her way into the heart of a child, you see. There was only one place to buy children’s’ books in Hyperion Heights, your store. Which is no longer the case.”

“You-”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s a cute, little bookstore. You make what? 350.000 dollars’ worth of books in a year?”

“How did you know that?!”

She shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m in the book business.”

“ _I_ am in the book business.”

“Sure you are. And here I am - the big bad. Only instead of a poisoned apple I have a cappuccino maker and instead of a spindle I have cheap books. Me, a spy?” she laughed sardonically, “Sure, I stole the numbers of some inconsequential bookstore because I was afraid some classless sap might put me out of business.”

“I….” he stared at her, watching that evil, victorious smirk. He wanted to fire back. He knew what he wanted to say, yet the words have failed him.

“What?” she challenged again and he kept staring at her like an idiot.

“Hello. Violet Morgan.” his girlfriend somehow showed up.

“Ivy Belfrey.” the change in her voice was astounding. She was all nice and sweet again.

“Ivy Belfrey? The proponent of the superstore? The destroyer of small-time business owners?”

Ivy accepted them as compliments, “The one and only.”

“Tell me, how do you sleep at night?”

“There’s this great over the counter drug.” some guy showed up by Ivy’s side, “Ultra-dorm.”

Henry felt like a lamp or something. Just standing there, doing nothing. Violet and the guy, Michael, kept talking about something or other. Ivy looked just as irrelevant to the conversation and exasperated for being there as Henry was. Hating to have anything in common with that woman, he dragged Violet away from the couple as politely as he could muster.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Ivy couldn’t wait to get home, go to bed and forget the night ever happened. Only it wasn’t that easy. She couldn’t sleep, the guilt kept gnawing at her. It was like something possessed her, the essence of her mother most likely. It was an out of body experience. She was watching herself, screaming at herself to just stop that torrent of insults. But she kept going. She was practically waiting for a presenter to come out and announce – 'And the award for completely humiliating Henry Mills goes to Ivy Belfrey!'

From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: Late-night introspection

'Do you ever feel you become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's Box of all the secret hateful parts - your arrogance, your spite, your condescension - has sprung open. Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them. Hello, it's Miss. Buttoned-up Bitch. I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about.'

*

From: TruestBeliever   
To: SeattleGirl67  
Subject: RE: Late-night introspection

'No, I know what you mean and I'm completely jealous. What happens to me when I'm provoked is that I get tongue-tied. My mind goes blank. Then... then I spend all night tossing and turning trying to figure out what I should have said. What should I have said, for example, to the bottom-dweller who recently belittled my existence is… Even now, days later, I can't figure it out. The most frustrating thing about the whole situation is that words are my livelihood, so to speak. I should be able to pull every word, nice or mean, from my sleeve. But instead I remain mute.'

*

From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: Re: RE: Late-night introspection

'Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? But then, on the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say the moment you mean to say it, guilt inevitably follows. So, once again the end result would be the same – a sleepless night. Do you think we should meet?'

Like spooked, Henry closed the laptop. Meet? She wanted to meet? He wanted as well, but should they? For the first time he felt like a truly horrible person, a cheater. He had Violet and a failing business and this person, whoever she was, had all the potential of being a life-changing force. It was scary, every change was. ‘A hero is always brave, a hero does the scary thing’ was somewhat of a saying of his pre-teen days. He would say it to his mom, Emma, whenever he thought she would give up and go back to Boston. He was a kid then, and this was real life. So, he did the cowardly, ungentlemanly thing and ignored the question. All the while, he was hoping he didn’t just screw everything up.

*

Instead, Henry chose to fully focus on the business. He went to new suppliers, gave fliers that offered discounts. Exhausting at it was, it was more tiring to see Ivy Belfrey all the time. She seemed to be everywhere. On his way to work, in the store, the bank… like she moved into his street. She didn’t, thank God, because she was definitively not the type of person who would get down from her ivory tower and join the commoners. Regardless of the walking nuisance in his life, his business was not looking up.

From: TruestBeliever   
To: SeattleGirl67  
Subject: Rain

'Rain always makes me nostalgic. Ever since I moved to Seattle, I guess. When I was a kid my mom and I would spend rainy evening such as this making her famous apple turnover. Over the years, as the family grew, we added hot chocolate with cinnamon to the tradition. I suppose I miss them now more than before since I desperately need their comfort. I need to feel that family atmosphere and hear that everything that’s going badly in my life will sort itself out.'

He didn’t expect a reply after ignoring her for days but after only two minutes, there it was.

From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: RE: Rain

'I sensed you’d be online. It sounds like you need some advice. Can I help?'

So, they started chatting. They chatted once, maybe twice. It was always a mail with a response hours or even days apart.

\- Can you help? I wish you could.

\- I can give you advice. I am great at advice (and sarcastic comments, if need be J). Is it about love?

\- My business is in trouble.

\- Well, my friend, you have come to the right person. I’m a brilliant businesswoman. It’s what I am best at. What’s your business?

\- We said no specifics, remember?

\- That complicates things, but minus specifics, I can say – ‘Feelings never do make sense. They get you all confused. Then they drive you around for hours before they drop you right back where you started.’ to quote Blair Waldorf.

\- What?! I am set to a new course of my life based on a quote from some lame teenage show?

\- It wasn’t that bad! There were moments… the point is that every fashion icon, fictional or real, is worth listening to. So, forget the feelings and fight. Repeat to yourself – it’s not personal, it’s business. Oh, and speaking of fashion icons – here’s a Prada for you. ‘What you wear is how you present yourself to the world, especially today, when human contacts are so quick. Fashion is instant language.’

Henry chuckled. Then the keys jiggled and he logged off.

“Violet!” he called.

“Yeah? I got dinner. From that Chinese place we like.”

“Great. I’ve been thinking. I’ve decided to fight. Do you think it would be a conflict of interest to get someone to write about the store?”

“Not at all.” she sat next to him, “I know a guy.”

“A guy?”

“Yes, a guy. We met him at the party then you went for a drink and didn’t return.”

“Oh, that guy.” he wasn’t quite sure what guy but it didn’t matter. He was starting a new operation and he had to pick a good name.

*

“‘Save ‘The Enchanted Forest’ and you will save your soul’ I mean who writes like that?! It’s idiotic.” Ivy threw her phone. It bounced off the cushion and fell on the ground. The whole thing started small on some blog, and now it’s gone viral.

“It beats ‘one, two, three, four we don’t want this superstore’.”

“Oh, don’t get me started on the protesters…“ she turned up the volume on TV. Henry Mills was speaking.

“Do you want Hyperion Heights to become one big strip mall?”

“No!” the crowd answered.

“Can we save ‘The Enchanted Forest’?”

“Yes!”

Then the montage changed to the interview. The reporter was practically swooning over him. When the hell did that happen? And why was he wearing a tie?

“They have discounts and coffee because people who work there have never read a book.”

“He is not as nice as seems on TV.” Ivy shared.

As the reporter was delivering the rest of the sap story with Ivy as the face of the villainous superstore, Anastasia commented, “Probably not as handsome as well?”

“I wish. But that doesn’t change the fact he’s a pain in my neck.”

“He has to be. You’re sending his ass, cute as well I suppose, to the unemployment bureau.”

“I’m sorry but have you met our mother?” Ivy glared at her, “Anyway, it’s not personal.”

“If you say so.”

Now Ivy’s face showed up on the television screen, “Now look at me! I was the epitome of poise and eloquence. Listen.”

“I sell cheap books. I do. So sue me.”

And then nothing. The report ended. They moved on to sport.

Ivy barely registered Anastasia’s ill-concealed giggle. What?! That bitch cut off her response completely. Her mother’s caller ID popped on her phone. Her heart stopped. Her brain couldn’t function for one thought consumed her. “Mother’s gonna kill me.”


	7. Chapter 7

Almost her entire life, Ivy felt like a second-class daughter. At times, even to Jacinda. She tried to live up to her mother's standards. She was the best in school, the president of the debate club and valedictorian. She wanted to study world literature or journalism, but her mother thought that writing was a hobby for slackers, so she got an MBA instead. Ivy lived and breathed for the company. It took years, but she no longer craved praise, she only wanted not to be so afraid of her mother’s disapproval. She needed to be courageous and tell her mother off, only the consequences never seemed worth the risk. After ‘The Enchanted Forest’ debacle, to quote her mother, Anastasia was put in charge. And Ivy was now her sister's assistant and Lucy's occasional babysitter.

It was Halloween. Jacinda was working double shift and someone had to take Lucy trick-or-treating. Victoria ordered Ivy to do it because she was the only one not invited to the mascaraed ball. The joke was on her mother because Ivy no longer let vanity dictate her life, she didn’t care about some posh party. Much.

She entered the poorly decorated ‘Chicken Shack’. Jacinda was finishing up Lucy’s skeleton make-up. Couple of kids were gathered around them. Then she saw Henry Mills and his smile turned into a frown as their eyes met. He was wearing some Disney prince costume, of course. Perfect. She just couldn’t escape him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too.”

“Is this…” she waved between Henry and Jacinda, “Is this the new baby daddy candidate? Prince Charmless? Seriously?”

“I guess we know what you are, then. But dial down on the wicked stepsister routine.”

Jacinda stepped between them, “Henry’s a friend, Ivy. You do know what that is?”

It was always unexpected when Jacinda threw a punch. And did she know where to hit. Ivy turned to Lucy, “Ready to go?”

“Can we all go together?”

Ivy laughed. The tone was brittle.

“Lucy, baby-” Jacinda tried to interfere. The kids would most likely get along, but there was no one to watch Henry and Ivy.

“We really wouldn’t want to intrude.” Henry stepped in.

“Please!” All four kids begged in unison.

Ivy and Henry shared a look. Ivy rolled her eyes and waved her hand in a ’whatever’ gesture.

Three pre-teens lined up in front of Henry. The blonde girl was staring at her, “You’re pretty.” she said and turned to Henry, “Right?”

Ivy raised her chin up and looked at Henry.

“Ivy is…” he stammered, "Ivy, this is my sister Hope, the Ghostbuster. Little sailor here is my brother Liam."

“Captain.” the blue-eyed boy corrected. Ivy didn’t see much resemblance between the two.

“And I’m Batman.” the lanky boy exclaimed proudly, “But Neal is all grown up for costumes now and Henry didn’t want to be Robin.”

“And Neal is?”

“My uncle.” Henry said, “He’s in high school now.”

Oh, so they were pulling a prank on her. How immature of Henry, “That would make Batman here your grandfather, I suppose.”

The kids giggled, “No, I’m his uncle.”

“Hmm… I guess you do get atypical families.” he furrowed his eyebrows, so she elaborated, “You said that the first day we met.”

“You mean the first day you lied to me?”

“I didn’t-” she shook her head, “I have two hours for this thing. Let’s go.”

“Behave.” Jacinda shouted after them and Ivy suspected that it wasn’t meant for the kids.

*

It appeared that Hyperion Heights was a neverending neighborhood. And Ivy couldn’t spend her time scrolling social networks because while everyone was posting pictures of getting ready for the party, she rambled around with the man she could barely stand.

“You know…” he started as they were sitting on a bench, waiting for the kids, “talking would make time go faster.“

She shoved the phone in her purse and clasped her hands, “What shall we talk about, Henry? How is fighting for your business going? Not well, I hope. But don’t worry, I’m sure that reporter will jump at first chance to have you by her side again.”

“I’m glad you watched my first TV appearance.”

“It’s hard to miss something that is derailing my life.”

“Are you seriously making me the bad guy?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You are just a … a blimp.” thanks to Henry’s little mission, she was no longer semi successful businesswoman but a disappointment flailing around, to rephrase her mother, “Can you just shut up, please?”

“I was just trying to be nice.”

“I guess being nice is a prerequisite for your existence. What are you? A romantic lead from the 80s movie – nice, sort of cute outcast. Only, that look doesn’t work on a 30 year old. It’s just pathetic.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, “And being nice must be a psychological torture for you.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

After that, they didn’t exchange a word. Ivy wanted to use her mother to excuse her behavior but she couldn’t. And she didn’t want to think about it. She focused on the kids and their elaborate plan to exchange candy.

“Lucy.” she called her niece, “Maybe you could invite your new friends with us to have pizza and split candy or whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Really, aunt Ivy?!” she jumped in excitement.

“If they want to.” she then took a step towards Henry, “And If Henry would accept the offer as my attempt of an apology?”

“Um…” he pinched his nose. He really wasn’t in the mood to spend one more second with her, “I guess the kids would crucify me if I said no.”

“‘Bella Notte’ it is then. My treat, no tricks.”

And Henry concealed his amusement with a huff.

The Italian place wasn’t as exclusive as he thought it would be. It had red-checked tablecloths, a fireplace and loud staff. Soft Italian canzone was drowned in the chatter of the guests.

“Now, tell me?” the waiter , appropriately costumed as the one from 'Lady and the Tramp', asked as they were sat at the table, “What’s to your pleasure? A la carte?”

“Get us four margheritas for the kids.” she consulted with Henry and he agreed.

“And for the couple?”

“No,no, no…” Henry waved his hands, “No, no couple here. I’ll just, I’ll have the same.”

“Nothing for me, Tony. Thank you.”

As Tony left, giving Henry a strange look, Ivy swatted him, “Seriously? Five’no-s’?”

“I…” he shrugged.

“Relax, I don’t care. It’s not like I’m going to wake up one day to realize I’m madly in love with you.”

“It would be a twilight zone scenario, for sure.” he looked around again. It was so quaint, “How did you find this place?”

“I got lost on my first day in the neighborhood.” when she was starting the business that would bring financial ruin to couple of shop owners, remained unsaid.

“It’s nice.” they really had no safe topic, “Hey guys, got a lot of candy? Let me see.”

“Yeah.” Liam exclaimed, “Lucy’s gonna give me her Apollo bars in exchange for peanut butter cups.”

“No candy before dinner.” Ivy looked up from her phone and warned Batman who was just about to open twizzlers.

“Come on, Gideon.” Henry took his Jack-O-Lantern candy bucket and put it away, “We talked about this, man. Now, candies away. Pizza’s coming.”

The pizza was good, like really good. And with it came some good fun. The kids were retelling their adventures. The grumpy old man in building 37 was a troll, while his wife looked like a fairy from Cinderella. It was like listening to some version of his own stories. He really needed to find the inspiration somewhere.

“Hey, babe.” a man approached the table mare minutes after they paid the check, “This place is hard to find. Shall we?”

“Yup, in a minute. Come on, Lucy. Your mom’s probably waiting.”

Oh, he was the boyfriend.

“Who’s this?” he gestured at Henry. His demeanor was less than friendly.

“Henry. Henry Mills. I think we met.”

“Right. The bookstore guy.”

They shook hands.

“I’m in real estate, you know. Maybe I’ll offer to buy the place when it goes down.”

“Maybe.” Henry clenched his jaw, “And maybe I’ll punch you in the face if you do.”

Ivy sprung up, “Lucy, why don’t you and your friends wait outside?”

“And not on the street.” Henry added.

As the kids were leaving, Gideon kicked Michael in the shin and ran.

“You little-” but Ivy pulled him back.

“Enough!” then she pointed at Henry who was about to react, “Enough.”

“So, I should just watch as this loser is moving in on my girl? It’s not gonna save your store, you know.”

“Wow, you couldn’t be more wrong, man.”

“People are staring.” Ivy growled at Henry, “The only problem you have is with me, so give it a rest. The kids seemed to have had a good time, so talk to Jacinda about getting together again or whatever. I don’t care.” then she turned to her boyfriend, “And Michael, the only problem you have is with yourself. So, we are going to drop off Lucy and then go to dinner… And mother thinks I’m acting juvenile.” she huffed and stormed out.

“How the hell am I the bad guy here?” Henry wondered out loud as he stood alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter was not at all movie related and I really enjoyed the part where I tried to incorporate things from the Halloween episode. I hope it worked out well.  
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments, you're the best.


	8. Chapter 8

'I never could relate to people who said Christmas is their favorite holiday. Though, I feel you love Christmas, since it is generally considered a family holiday. That’s the main reason I dislike it. My family Christmases involve sitting stiffly on uncomfortable chairs, comparing yearly accomplishments and failures (we call it a ‘high and low’ game, and it is everything but) and kids have their recitals or ballet shows. I suppose this might be breaking our ‘no specifics’ rule, but this night, I can't help it. In the game tomorrow, my highs and lows will be about business. But the truth is, the high of this year was getting on that site and finding you… I find myself missing you more and more. You are the only person I do miss, which is strange because I have never met you. And I wish|'  


Ivy stopped and stared at the blinking dash. The memory of their ‘meeting’ coursed through her mind.  


_It was the beginning of spring, and Tamara’s bachelorette party. The night before she was to marry the most boring, sleazy looking man Ivy has ever met._  


_Since most of them refused to let go of their sorority days – the highlight of their lives – they insisted on playing ‘truth or dare’. If they weren’t in a bar they would probably be playing spin the bottle. Though you never know, the night's still young._  


_"So, bride to be… What will it be? Truth or dare."_  


_"Hmm…" she pursed her lips, "Let’s go with the truth this time."_  


_"Yes! Have you ever, have you ever…." Jacqueline was dragging the question, "Cheated on Greg?"_  


_Flabbergasted, Tamara exclaimed, "How can you ask me that?!"_  


_"History’s not your ally." Anastasia teased, "Spill."_  


_"I’ve cheated on someone else with Greg." Tamara confessed, "Does that count?"_  


_"Not if he knew about it."_  


_"Then I guess my answer is no."_  


_"Here’s to the fairytale couple!" Ivy raised her glass and emptied it in one gulp._  


_"Go ivy!" the girls cheered, disregarding her cynicism, "It’s time you loosened up."_  


_"Ok, ok. My turn. Ivy?"  
_

_"Will you be nice to me, Tamara?"_  


_"Always am."_  


_"Fine." God, she hated these gatherings, "Dare."_  


_"I dare you to go to the bar and get a guy’s number."_  


_"Seriously?"_  


_"Oh, I saw a cute one – maroon jacket, dark hair, kind of skinny for my taste." Jacqueline suggested, "And you seriously need a date."_  


_Was the night turning into an intervention for her? She knew she didn’t have the most exciting love life but it’s not like that‘s her priority at the moment._  


_Tamara and Anastasia shared a look, "I had something else in mind, actually. Tinder."_  


_"Do I look that desperate to you? I’m not putting my face or anything else on Tinder."_  


_"Come on, social media queen. You’re the one who’s on the phone all the time."  
_

_"Don’t pester my sister. She’s not gonna go on Tinder when there’s a perfectly fine blind dating site." she snatched Ivy’s phone._  


_"Come on! Give it back."_  


_"Lighten up, sis. We’ll find you a prince."_  


_'Because you did so well for yourself.' she wanted to say but bit her tongue.  
_   

_Once her sister started typing her favorites and interests, Ivy realized she and Anastasia weren’t as close as she thought. So, Ivy took over and wrote about the coziness of Seattle, the public library, summer days in Volunteer park and how KEXP was still the greatest radio station in the country. She wasn’t sure why she was sharing the real information, maybe deep down she wanted some digital fairytale._  


_They went into the ‘turning thirty’ tag because that was where the most desperate were and her so-called friends enjoy torturing her. She selects three random profiles as possible match. TheReal_Whizz responded first and they set a date (He turned out to be a failing life coach with a voice of a mice from Cinderella)._  


_Only when a day later TruestBeliever responded to her message did she pay attention to the name. She figured he could be some religious fanatic or something. But his message was original and interesting. He wasn’t looking for a hook up just a chat, so she agreed and had only one rule – no personal specifics._  


Ivy looked at the keyboard and pressed backspace. She deleted the draft and went to bed.  


*  


"Ok, I hung the stockings, Grandpa and Neal are in charge of the lights and Ma and Killian are bringing drinks."  


"Good. Mary Margaret’s off caroling and the food’s going to be ready in an hour." Regina looked around, "I suppose that’s it."  


"Another successful operation, mom." Henry grinned and put the last present under the tree.  


She patted the spot next to her, "Sit with me."  


"Are you ok?" she was getting tired quicker now but she never slowed down. Henry helped as much as he could, or as much she would let him.  


"Hey. I’m the one who should be worrying about you."  


"Why?"  


"Because your mothers had to find out from Belle that the store’s in trouble."  


"It’s nothing. I got it covered." his mother looked at him pointedly, "I don’t need you and ma to save me anymore. I can handle Ivy Belfrey."  


"Who’s Ivy Belfrey?"  


"She’s my competitor, her family's opening this huge bookstore. It’s like she stepped out of ‘Mean girls’. She’s rude and dismissive and she drives me insane. I guess there are moments when she’s not the worst, but they are rare."  


"Honey, I’ve seen this story before. Trust me, it doesn’t end well."  


"What do you mean?"  


"A mean girl and a genuine boy. Life’s not a book, Henry."  


"God, mom. It’s not that. Why would you think that? And Violet, my girlfriend. Remember her?"  


"I just want what’s best for you."  


"I know." he clasped his hands around hers, "And it’s going to be. My operations always succeed and Operation Shepherd won’t be an exception."  


*  


Operation Shepherd was not going well. His TV appearance didn't do much good and the holiday season did not boost up their sales as he had hoped for. Alice and Bo tried to soften the blow, but to no avail. So, Henry decided to seek help from a friend.  


From: TruestBeliever  
To: SeattleGirl67  
Subject: Advice  


'I need help. Do you still want to meet me?'  


A few long, torturous hours later, the reply arrived.  


From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: RE: Advice  


'I would love to. When and where?'

 


	9. Chapter 9

The car pulled up in front of a bar. Ivy looked up at the neon sign – 'Roni’s'. It was eight already and she couldn’t budge.

“We’re here.”

“Mhm.” her legs didn’t work, her palms were sweating. She hasn't been this nervous since her 6th grade recital.

“I've agreed to give you a ride but I now have better things to do.”

“Mhm.” she turned to her sister, “Go look for me?”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“You’re right, you're absolutely right. I’m going to march in there, meet the guy, stay 10 minutes and leave. That’s it.”

“Good plan, maybe he’s poor and ugly. 10 minutes is enough…” after a long pause, she added, “You’re still not moving, Ivy.”

“I can’t, Ana!” that was it, she was losing it completely, “This man is the most amazing person I have ever met. He could be a homeless ogre and I would drop everything in a heartbeat and run off with him into the sunset.”

“Fine, I’ll go and look. Anything to stop this teenage girl crush nonsense. You know, only you could not be happy with a successful and smart American royalty.” she snorted, “I suppose he’s carrying a book.” when the reply didn’t come she knew, “Oh, Christ!” she left the car and went to look through the bar window.

While her sister was looking, Ivy became fidgety. Finally, she got hold of her motor skills and stepped out of the car, slamming the door, “And?!”

“A waiter’s blocking the view. I don’t see the book. Relax.”

“I cannot relax. He is-”

“I see him.”  
Ivy halted, “What?”

“Well… he is handsome.”

Ivy clasped her hands together, “I knew it. He had to be.”

“Yes… but he’s- remember Henry Mills?”

“From the bookstore?”

“You said he was cute.”

“Sure. So what?” her forehead puckered, “Who cares about Henry Mills now?”

“I think you really should.”

“Why?”

“Because your internet guy... it's Henry Mills.”

“Right.” she laughed, but then… she hopped on the stairs and glued her face to the window. And there he was, in a nice blue shirt, fidgeting, opening and closing the book, fixing his collar. Henry Mills from the bookstore, the man who wouldn’t quit and inadvertently got her demoted, was TruestBeliever. He hated her. She was basically in love with a man who hated her. Perfect. She couldn’t face him. Ever! “Well, he just had to ruin that for me, didn’t he?” a high-pitched noise resembling laugh escaped her.

“Aren’t you going in?”

“No. I’m going back to my apartment. I’m going to…” she waved her hands in a vague gesture, still dumbstruck, “Take a walk.”

“You know this whole situation is amusing as hell to me, but don’t you feel bad?”

“Good night, Anastasia.” Ivy waved her sister goodbye as she walked down the street.

She rounded the corner then stopped. After two long weeks of snow, Seattle was finally moving again. People kept bumping into her. Henry Mills and TruestBeliever were the same person. She couldn’t believe it. The one person in her life she thought could, in a strange yet special way, always lean on was someone she would now have to give up. No, she had to march into that bar and see for herself. Maybe the actual conversation, in light of this new information, would disillusion her. She straightened her Max Azaria skirt, turned on her heels and walked oh so casually into 'Roni’s'.

When she turned to look at his table, he was already hiding behind the book.

“Henry Mills.” she approached, the faux surprise in her voice was supposed to convey pleasantness, “Well, what a coincidence. Mind if I sit?”

“I do mind, actually.” he pulled the chair closer, “I’m expecting someone.”

There on the table lay a book. And a rose. For her. She looked closer, “'The Little Prince'? I bet you’ve been reading that book since you were a kid. I bet you love that sentimental dialogue between the prince and… a daisy or something.”

“What can I get you?” a woman approached the table as Ivy took a seat.

“Nothing, Roni. She’s not staying.”

“Scotch. A finer one.” she looked at Henry. He was looking daggers at her, “What? I’ll just keep you company until your lady friend, I assume, arrives. Uh, 8.15. She’s a bit late, but women usually are I suppose.”

“It’s not a daisy, it’ a rose. Not that you would know. To understand the philosophy behind 'The Little Prince', you need both imagination and empathy.”

“I’ve read the book quite recently, actually.”

“Good for you.”

“You would discover a lot of things about me, if you got to know me.”

“Yeah, it would be something to get the know the girl who has a cash register for a heart.”

That one hurt, Ivy had to admit as she watched at his almost gleeful expression. She supposed it hurt more now than it would have mere 20 minutes ago, “What?”

“I just had a breakthrough. And I have you to thank for it.”

“For what?”

“Finally, when confronted with a horrible person.” he flung his hands in her direction like he had to emphasize he was indeed referring to her, “I knew exactly what I wanted to say and I said it.”

Ivy looked down at her drink. The ice cubes were melting slowly and she felt like falling apart and disappearing as well. To calm herself, she dug her nails into the palm. The pain was distracting enough, “Well, coming from an expert, I say you have a knack for it. That was a perfect mix of poetry and meanness.”

“Meanness? You’re the-” he halted in surprise when she placed her hand on his wrist.

“It was meant to be a compliment, Henry. Take it as such.” something flickered in her heart but she managed to quell it. In defense, she acted how she usually did, “Is this supposed to be a red rose? Like from the book?”

“Please, leave that.”

“It’s more crimson, maroon actually.”

“I get this is funny to you but-” the bar door opened and the both turned. It was a pair of old ladies.  
Henry looked disappointed. His sad, puppy dog eyes turned away and he sighed, “Please, leave.”

After brief consideration, Ivy gave a small nod and moved to the next table.

His eyes followed her in surprise but he tried to stay calm. His pulse quickened, he exhaled and decided to count to ten. Apparently, that was supposed to be helpful. It wasn't. He took out the handkerchief and tried to iron it out with his hands. Anything to keep busy.

“You know what that handkerchief reminds me of?” Ivy intruded, “The first time we met.”

“Oh, yeah? I too think of your lies as the fond memory.”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“You did.”

There it was again, but this time Ivy wouldn’t let it go, “I did not.”

“You so did.”

“I did not.”

“Yeah, you did. 'Just call me Ivy?'”

“That is my name.”

“Seriously? Like you’re some stupid valley girl with no last name?”

“Look.” she moved back to his table, “I am not some stupid-”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“And I didn’t mean to look like a money obsessed bitch who sells cheap books but hey… your reporter fangirl screwed with my statement.”

“Oh, you poor little rich girl. I feel so sorry for you.”

It was luck perhaps that at that precise moment the bar door opened, because whatever Ivy was about to say she would have sorely regretted. Instead, she smirked as the woman who entered the store was the one wearing a cape and a witch hat, “I’d say that’s not her. Unless, you have a weird fairy tale fetish.”

Henry ran fingers through his already disheveled hair.

“Who is she, I wonder? Certainly not your party date but somebody quite different.” she leaned back and cocked her head, “Will you be mean to her too?”

“I will not. Because she is someone completely unlike you. She is wonderful, kind and funny and-”

“And not here.”

“Well, I'm sure she has a good reason, because there is not a cruel and careless bone in her body. But I guess you wouldn’t believe that because all you believe is money. You think you are some benefactor who brings books to the masses but you are just a replaceable clog in the machine and nobody will remember you. And maybe nobody will remember me either, but many people remember my grandma. They think she's special and her store is special. And you, you will never live to hear that about yourself.” he stopped abruptly the torrent of words. His hands were shaking, hidden in his lap.

Ivy fished out her wallet and placed a bill on the table. She couldn’t look at him, if she did she might let show how it wounded her, “That’s my cue. Good night.”

She kept thinking how horrible this was for her, but only then did she truly realize that for Henry it was far worse. She knew the truth, but Henry would go back to his apartment and see no explanation waiting for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the inexcusably long delay. I'm back, thanks for sticking with me.

After the absolutely horrible and beyond disappointing night, as expected, the equally horrible morning followed. It was dark and gloomy and rainy and it took all the strength in the world for Henry to drag himself to the store.

“So, what happened?” Alice ambushed him the moment she laid her eyes on him.

“She never came.” Henry replied in a tone that he hoped would conceal his state of near depression.

“She stood you up?”

“I wouldn't call it that.” he defended his mystery friend. Because she didn't do that, she would never, “Something probably happened, something unexpected and- oh man, what if she came in, took one look at me and left?!”

“No way. You're an 8... well, 7 if you close the shop, but lookswise I'd say a solid 8. And that's a catch for anyone who's looking for dates online.”

Alice really knew how to boost his confidence and bring him down in one sentence, “Maybe there was a subway accident?”

“Absolutely.” she hopped on the counter, “And no electricity, no internet connection. Or maybe she got sucked up under the rails. There, puzzle solved.”

Bo entered in the middle of that incredibly morbid hypothesis, “What happened?”

“She was unable to make it.” Yeah, that sounded better.

“Do you think she came in, took one look at you and left?”

Henry flung his arm in the air.

“Come on, dude.” Alice tried to comfort him in her own special way, “Maybe she got into a car accident. The cab hit something and slammed her into that plastic partition.”

“And her arms are in cast and she cannot type.” why was he taking part in this? “Or she's in a coma.” again, why?

“Bollocks.” Bo slammed The Seattle Time in front of them, “Look!”

The pair looked at the front page. It read: Cops nab the black widow, “What are you saying?”

“It could be. She was arrested two blocks from the bar.”

Alice flipped through the pages. There was a picture of a woman hiding her face, “Oh, so she's in jail. And had to use one phone call for her lawyer.” she patted Henry on the back, “There you go. Though, she looks attractive enough.”

“You got away, man. You could be dead now.”

“She's not the black widow!” Henry exclaimed after a second thought.

“You believed some weird shit but you don't believe this?”

“I was eleven! I should have never told you guys that.”

“How long were you sitting there all along?”

“A while. But then Ivy Belfrey showed up.” Alice opened her mouth to comment but he cut her off, “I don't want to talk about it. Let's just- just get to work.”

*

“...then the book publisher said that the advance he needed for the-“

“I went in.”

“Went in where?”

“The bar, Anastasia!”

“Really? You told him-“

“No! No, because he was insulting and mean and the only nice thing about him was how his hair looked when he run his fingers through it.” Damn it! Why was that still on her mind?

“But underneath all that, he may be-“

“A real ass. All that cute, small town boy charm, that's all just and act.” his words were still seared into her brain, “Let's not talk about it.”

“You started it.” her sister grumbled but decided not to push it for now.

It took her 2 days to find the courage to log into her e-mail account. And sure, there is was.

From: TruestBeliever   
To: SeattleGirl67  
Subject: Last night

'I've been thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you weren't there. I wish I knew why. I felt foolish I guess. As I waited, someone else showed up, a woman who has made my professional life miserable, and an amazing thing happened. I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say at the exact moment I wanted to say it. And of course, just like you said, I felt terrible afterwards. I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I doubt what I said mattered to this woman, to her I am a bug to be crushed, what if it did? No matter what she's done to me, there is no excuse for my behavior.  
  
Anyway, I really wanted to talk to you. I hope you have a good reason for not being there last night. You don't seem like the kind of person that would do something like that. The odd thing about this form of communication is that you're more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say, that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings. So, thanks.’

Ivy pressed her palms against her eyes and exhaled slowly. “I am the worst person in the world.”

She put her phone on the charger and tried to distract herself. It didn't work. What should she answer? What excuse would be plausible enough? She tried work meeting, hospital emergency and excuses kept piling on forming the most ludicrous lies. Whether she liked it or not, the only thing she could do was be honest. And to do so in a way that would not make him discard her forever.

From: SeattleGirl67   
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: RE: Last night

'Dear friend,  
  
I can't tell you what happened last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me. I feel awful that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I'm sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says things they regret when they're worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted but you met the enemy instead. It’s my fault. Someday I'll explain everything. Until then, I'm still here. Talk to me.'

 


	11. Chapter 11

“So what did your grandma said?” Violet asked as the waiter brought them dinner.

“That I am brave and daring to start my life anew.”

“Well, she is quite poetic.” she smiled, “You'll be fine.”

He returned a tight lipped smile, “I know I will be. Eventually. I have you and-“

“God, I need to tell you something.”

“What?” his eyebrows furrowed. She's been acting strange for days, maybe more. He was so caught up in his own problems that he couldn't be sure. But she surely couldn't still be mad he forgot to vote in the mayoral election, “What is it, Vi?”

“I- you are great, Henry.”

“So are you.” he replied, confounded.

“And I am grateful that you want to be with me...”

Wait! Was she breaking up with him?

“… and that you find me worthy of your love, but I am-“

Yup, it was the break up talk, “Not in love with me.” he finished the thought. Her lips parted. The look of panic turned into one of confusion when he chuckled, “I'm not in love with you either.”

“You don't love me?”

“No.”

“But we are perfect for each other.” she almost sounded insulted by the fact.

“I know! It's so weird. Um, is there someone else?” when she looked away, he knew, “Oh, that guy from the party, the one who helped with the article.”

“Nothing's happened I swear, I would never cheat on you but... he's so passionate about the environment and he's a democrat.”

He laughed, strangely ok with the situation. Everything seemed like a scene from an absurd play.

“What about you? Is there someone else?”

“No. no but...” he wondered, he hoped still, “There's the dream of someone else.”

Within a week he closed his shop and he and Patch moved to the docks, into Killian's boat.

*

From: TruestBeliever  
To: SeattleGirl67  
Subject: Change   
  
‘People are always telling me that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all has happened.  
  
My store is closing this week. I own a store. Did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store, and in a week it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap. Soon it will just be a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person will probably think it's a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, or the way you can never count on it, or something. I know, because that's the sort of thing I'm always saying. But the truth is, I'm heartbroken. I feel like a part of me has died and no one can ever make it right.’

*

On the day of the closing, Henry, as the final sale was depressing enough, reached a mini breakdown of sorts. Grandma Belle told him to turn the occasion into a celebration . 'One chapter ended, another one beginning' she used kind of cheesy metaphor which coming from her sounded sweet and hopeful. His entire family offered to come and help but he politely refused. His moms offered to 'take care of the problem' which he didn't want to know what entailed, but he ordered them not to do anything. Bo and Alice were more than enough.

Bo brought the whiskey her grandpa occasionally sent from England. It was strong enough to burn through his intestines, he soon found out.

Alice turned up the music on her phone, some psychedelic tune, and was dancing while helping. He was grateful for it, it made him smile. She gave him a rook chess piece figurine. It's like the one her father gave her, she told him. He was family to her and she would always be there for him. He hugged her so tight, she begged him to let her go.

“See ya around, weirdo.” she swatted him as they said goodbye.

As he locked the door of his little once sanctuary for what was the last time, he felt crushed. It did not feel like the end of a chapter, it felt like it was just the end. He turned the corner only to see the victorious Belfrey Books sign shine on his failure. It prompted him to go inside. It was time to face the music and admit defeat.

It was big and modern and full of people. And he really wanted to hate it. He ended up in the children's department, the one that brought him down. It had so much to offer, he saw as he was browsing the shelves, skipping occasionally over children sitting on the floor, enjoying books. And he just sat there, on a small red chair, across from a stuffed teddy bear.

“Do you have the shoe books?” he overheard a woman ask a salesman.

“Who's the author?”

“I don't know. A friend told me my daughter has to read them, so here I am.”

“Noel Streatfield.” Henry answered. Grandma Mary Margaret’s favorite author, “He wrote 'Ballet shoes' and 'Skating shoes' and 'Theater shoes' and 'Dancing shoes'...” as he went on, his voice was cracking, “Um, I recommend to start with 'Ballet shoes'. On the other hand, 'Skating shoes' is wonderful, but it's out of print.”

“Ok. How do you spell that?”

“S-T-R-E-A-T-F-“ and that was that, he was sniveling. A grown man, in a children's department bookstore.

From the far corner, Ivy was watching the scene that would hang in the air all day. They all spoke of Henry Mills and his situation. The wonderful man, the children's literature connoisseur, unjustly tossed out on the street by the once and again store manager Ivy Belfrey.

“I simply should get more competent staff. No person working in that department should be unfamiliar with Noel Streatfield.” she complained to Michael as they walked into her apartment building.

“Do you think he's selling? It's a shabby little place but location is everything.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“Well what else is he gonna do?”

“You mean now that he's destitute?”

He chuckled, “Thanks to you.”

“I don't think he'd sell to you.”

“Why not?”

“It' been in his family forever. I mean, everything there has been there forever... until recently.”

“Thanks to you. Hold the elevator!”

They slid into it.

“Hello, Ms Belfrey. Mr Griffiths.”

“Hello, Charlie.” she greeted the elevator operator, the funny looking man with the baby face.

“It's so great how you've forgotten that you had a role in his situation.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, “Again that word – situation.”

“So obtuse, so insensitive. It reminds me of someone... who, though? Oh, right – me!”

His laughter was interrupted by a sudden jerk.

“What's happening?”

“We could be stuck.” charlie answered and started pressing every floor button. It was like he was a child.

Ivy huffed, “What are you doing?”

“I hope this thing doesn't plummet to the basement.”

“Can it do that?” a woman with a yapping dog asked.

“Of course not.” Ivy picked up the phone and told reception to call the fire department. They will surely get them out fast.

An hour later, the four unlikely companions were sitting on the elevator floor. Five, if you count the chihuahua currently chewing on his owner's handbag.

“If I ever get out of here.” the woman spoke, suddenly sounding very southern, “I'm gonna start speaking to my momma. I wonder what she's doing this very minute.”

“If I ever get out of here.” Charlie joined in, “I'm gonna marry Orit. I love her. I should marry her. I don't know what's been stopping me.”

Ivy nodded, like giving some sort of approval. It prompted him to show her the picture of Orit. She was a catch.

“If I ever get out of here, I'm gonna get a phone with a good battery.” Michael mumbled not looking up from the screen.

“If I ever get out of here...” what? She wondered what she would do. She wanted something to change in her life. Anything, for better or worse. She reached the point she didn't much care which. Perhaps- no surely she knew she should stop this neverending pity party she threw herself and do something. The thing was, she didn't know what exactly she wanted to do with her life. The elevator, she realized with the chuckle, was quite the fitting metaphor for her life right now. Buttons pressed for every floor possible, many different doors, different opportunities, and the elevator stuck, mid-nothing, “I'll-“

“Stupid phone!” Michael yelled as the screen went black. Feeling her staring at him, he looked up, “What?!”

She shook her head, “Nothing, absolutely nothing.”

*

From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: Elevator  
  
‘I came home tonight and got into the elevator to go to my apartment. An hour later, I got out of the elevator and told my now ex partner to go back in. Suddenly, everything had become clear.  
  
It's a long story. Full of the personal details we tend to avoid... Let me just say, there was a man sitting in the elevator with me who knew exactly what he wanted and I found myself wishing I were as lucky as he.’


	12. Chapter 12

 

“You got married?!”

“Yes!” her sister hopped next to her and showed her the ring, “I know it's small and cheap but it's perfection.”

Ivy sat back and stared at this strange creature in front of her, impersonating her sister, “You married your cake baker?”

“For the third time, yes! Will and I fell in love and decided to elope. Ah, Ivy it was so romantic. Will made a cake with little scarlet hearts and the ring-”

“Stop! This is ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because.” she stopped, searching for a reason. She was starting to feel the migraine coming, “What do you know about this Will Scarlet person anyway?”

“He's kind and hard working and when I'm around him I feel... lighter.”

Ivy shook her head. Anastasia sounded like she did that one time she tried pot, “So every time you said you were going cake tasting, you were actually... Gross.” she shook the thought out of her mind, “How did mother react?”

“You're the only person who knows.”

“What? Hans doesn't know?” Ivy laughed. At least one good thing that came out of the impromptu romance. She clasped her hands in plea, “Can I please be the one to tell him?”

Anastasia smirked, “You're horrible.”

“I know I am, but it's Hans. Can I at least be there? Please, I don't have many joys in life.”

“Be serious for one moment.”

“Sorry. But this is seriously funny. You were telling me I was crazy for leaving Michael because, and I quote, ‘a young single guy with such social status is an endangered species.’ And now you are slumming it with the baker boy.”

“Well, love makes us do extraordinary things. You'll see. You'll meet someone. That's easy.”

Ivy came to realize she didn't like this happily romantic side of her sister, “Yes, I just have to click my heel and I will appear in front of a one single person who fills my heart with joy.”

“Why not? I'm sure there's someone out there that fits the description.”

*

Ivy rather enjoyed Seattle in spring. The nature would come to life and there were flowers everywhere. With a mission set in her mind, she skipped along the docks, sea air filling her nostrils. She easily found the boat she needed and stepped onto the deck. She wasn't a big fan of boats. Longer stay tended to make her woozy.

A big dalmatian with a black spot on his right eye appeared in front of her. She smiled. The resemblance to his cartoon namesake was uncanny, “Hello, Patch.”

The dog appeared confused by the stranger who knew his name but allowed her to scratch him behind the ear, “Where's Henry?”

At the sound of his owner's name, Patch barked. Ivy figured it was a signal to follow him and rushed after the dog.

Below deck, Patch stopped in front of the closed door.

She knocked. She decided it was better not to just barge in, “Henry?”

There as a shuffling sound.

“It's Ivy. Ivy Belfrey.”

“What are you doing here?” the door remained close.

“May I come in?”

“No. That's not really good idea because I have a... a-” a terrible sneeze echoed and Ivy jerked back, “Cold. Can you hear that?”

“Yeah. I brought chicken soup from 'Michou'.”

After couple of seconds, the door flung open. Henry was standing in front of her in old gray sweatpants, with puffy eyes and red nose. He was trying to look all angry and serious but, sniffling and half-awake, he only managed to look cuter, “What are you doing here? Then he glanced at Patch. You weren't supposed to let strangers in, traitor.”

Patch actually looked ashamed and left, tail between his legs.

“I heard you were sick. And I was worried. And I wanted to make sure...” she stepped inside.

“What?”

“Is there somebody here?”

“No. Oh, it's the home shopping network.”

“You buy any of those porcelain dolls?”

“I was thinking about it.” he retorted, “I plan to become the next big thing on TLC's ‘Hoarding: Buried alive’.”

Ivy laughed as the image came to mind.

“Hey, you put me out of business.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Did you come to gloat?”

“No.”

“To offer me a job?”

“I would never-”

“Because I have plenty of offers and I have enough money. I don't have to sell the store which you can tell your-”

“My ex.” she clarified.

“Oh, your ex. You broke up?”

She nodded, pretending the situation was unfortunate.

“Too bad. You were perfect for each other.” then he groaned and shut his mouth with his hand, “I don't want to be mean. No matter what you've done to me there's no excuse for my saying things like that. But every time I see you... gah.”

“Things just fly out of your mouth.”

“Yes!”

“I brought soup and flowers.”

“Awww. Thank you.” then he stomped to the door and pointed outside.

Ivy smiled, “I'll put these in water. You should sit down, you re sick. Plus, the soup's getting cold.”

Henry watched dumbstruck as she waltzed into his kitchen like it was a regular occurrence to find, he presumed, a vase. The flu was making it hard to stand and he reluctantly dragged himself to the table. He had no strength for much else.

“Alice says hello, by the way. She was the one who told me you were sick.”

“Oh, how's Alice?” his head fell on the table and he let out a strange sound.

“Great. She's revolutionizing the place. You can't work in the department unless you have a Ph.d. in children's literature. I might actually ask… never mind. And she's in love, I think.”

“I love daises. They really brighten up the room.” he watched the fresh flowers appeared in front of him, “How do you know?”

“Well, she stopped flirting shamelessly with me and she can't stop talking about Robin. That's the girl's name.”

“What?” he got up and realized he did it too quickly. The room was spinning, “She was supposed to show her the collage not date her. Oh, I need to lie down.”

Ivy followed him as he stumbled towards bed.

“You know Robin?”

“She's my cousin. She differed for a year but she's starting college this fall. She's been staying with me for a month now” he got under the covers, “When did you break up?”

“Couple of weeks ago.”

“Everyone's breaking up. You.” he gestured with his Kleenex, “Me. This other person I know broke up with someone in an elevator. Or was it after it? Or outside? I don't- it got stuck and... I was waiting for her when I saw you at Roni's. And I was-”

“Charming?” Ivy offered, along with the soup.

His nose crinkled, “I was not charming. I was upset and horrible.”

“I was the horrible one.”

“Well, yeah but I have no excuse.”

“Whereas I” she smiled and sat by his bedside, “am by nature a horrible person and have no choice but to be horrible. Interesting.”

His eyes widened and he smacked his mouth. Ivy had to admit all this was a bit fun.

“That's all right. I put you out of business so it's ok that you hate me.”

“I don't hate you.” his feelings however intense they were at times, have never reached the level of hate.

“But you'll never forgive me.” she wasn't sure she wanted to hear his response so she continued, “Look, it wasn't personal.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I'm sick of that. Maybe it wasn't personal to you but it was to me. It was personal to a lot of people. And what's wrong with being personal anyway?”

“Um... nothing.”

“Whenever you start something in life, it should start as personal, right?”

Ivy nodded, most things in her life weren't personal. Even those which ought to have been.

“My head's getting fuzzy again.” he slid to the side, his face half buried in the pillow, “Why did you come again? I forgot.”

“I wanted to be your friend.”

“Oh.”

“I knew it wasn't possible, but a girl can dream, right? Can I ask you something?”

He made a noise that Ivy took to mean yes.

“What happened to the girl from the bar?”

“Nothing.”

It was a long shot but Ivy had to ask, “But you're crazy about her?”

Henry lifted himself up, “Yes, I am.”

Ivy bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning, “Why aren't you riding into the sunset then? What are you waiting for?”

“I don't really know her.” he buried his face back into the pillow. This time the reason was embarrassment, “I know her through...”

“Oh, let me guess - the power of the Internet. Well, that's common these days.”

“But it's not like Tinder and stuff like that. We just...”

“Chat?”

“Yes.”

“About nothing which feels much more than something?”

“Yes!”

“That's very powerful stuff.”

“Mhm.”

“Well, that's one lucky girl. I think you should meet her.” she put another blanket over him, “No, I take that back. Why would you want to meet someone you're crazy about?”

“Hey, I don't think you have the right-” she placed a fingertip over his lips.

“I see that I bring out the worst in you. So, this is me helping you not say the words that's gonna torture you for years to come.” she stared at his eyes for long, unable to break the contact, “I hope you feel better soon. It would be a shame to miss Seattle in the spring. It's magical.”

“Thanks.” he whispered, for he was somehow rendered incapable of using his full voice, “For the soup.”

She rushed out hoping the sea breeze will help her clear her head. She needed to act the part of an ex business rival attempting friendship not a loves truck, head-over-heels girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, Anastasia is more based on the Once upon a time in Wonderland counterpart, so I had to get Will and her together. And Alice and Robin were too cute to be completely left out.  
> We're getting close to Henry finding out the truth. Stick with me and thanks for the support.


	13. Chapter 13

Fearing his body would actually fall apart from intense laziness, Henry took up the habit of walking to the city and doing some reading/research outside, among people. After all, that was where his muse would ordinarily strike. Plus, he was getting tired of living at sea. Sailing was far less exciting than Killian would describe.

Henry found that Roni's was a surprisingly bright and cheerful place during daytime. Quickly, the place by the window overlooking the farmer's market became his. He was flipping through Andersen's collected works when someone knocked on the glass. His head shot up. It was Ivy Belfrey, pointing that she would join him. No! Why? He was shaking his head, but it was futile. Henry couldn't help but wonder how she was still in his life.

“Hey, Roni. Can you get me some black tea, please?” she spoke as she was approaching Henry, “Hello.”

“Hello. Why are you here?”

“Oh, I come here sometimes after work. Roni's a great drinking buddy.” she cocked her head, looking at the illustration in the book. It was 'The little mermaid'.

Henry closed the book and pushed it away, “Research. I'm thinking of picking up writing again.”

“You're a writer? What made you give it another shot?”

“I guess it was my...” his what? He couldn't think of the a fitting tittle.

“Your Internet girl?”

“Mhm.” he smiled, somewhat proud. He supposed she was _his_ Internet girl.

She smiled back, “Good for you. And her, I suppose. Maybe not meeting her is for the best.”

“Actually, I wrote saying we should meet.”

“Really? Did you do it because I said not to?”

Partly, “Of course not.”

She sat back, “So, when's the big day?”

“Still unspecified. She's busy at the moment. With a project.”

“A project?” Ivy asked as if it was dubious. He didn't like the tone.

“Yes.” he defended, “It's a project that needs tweaking, she said.”

“Tweaking?”

“Are you going to repeat everything I say?”

She lifted her hands in surrender, “It just seems like she's married.”

His coffee mug stopped mid it's intended path, “She's not- that's terrible of you to say. She's not married. She's a busy woman.”

“Well, as one of those soccer moms of course she's busy. She has to take her three kids to practice. I bet at least one has piano lessons or something.”

“You're the worst.” he replied but hid his bemused smirk behind the rim of the mug.

*

Ridiculously as it sounded, Ivy managed to get into his head and he actually asked SeattleGirl67 the question.

From: SeattleGirl67  
To: TruestBeliever  
Subject: Re: An answer

'Am I married? What kind of a question is that? How can you ask me that? Don't you know me at all? Oh wait, I get it. Your friends are telling you the reason we haven't met is that I'm married. Am I right?'

“I felt like a complete ass. It's all because of you.” he accused Ivy couple of days later when he yet again bumped into her. That kept happening more and more.

She chuckled, “Hey, it's not my fault you find me persuasive. And she didn't answer the question, by the way.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, she did.”

“Nope.”

“She did.”

“She did not.”

“She did, she figured me out. She knew exactly what the deal was, which is so like her.”

Ivy shrugged and snatched a fry from his plate, “She didn't answer the question, did she?”

“Technically, no.” he admitted defeat.

She laughed, “What's her nick?”

“I...”

“I'm not gonna write to her. Relax.”

He hesitated for a moment, “It's SeattleGirl67.”

“SeattleGirl67. Why 67? She's 67 years old? Wait, maybe she did come that night at Roni's. Remember when those two old ladies walked in? She probably brought a friend, if you turned out to be a creep.”

“Nice theory but how about, 67 people that think she looks like Robin Wright from 'The Princess Bride'?”

“Pft, so predictable. Of course you'd like that movie.”

“It's classic!”

“Fine. Maybe she looks like Vizzini from The Princess Bride.”

He shook his head and picked up the tab, “Why did I even tell you?”

“67 OCD disorders. 67 selfies per day.” she kept going relentlessly as they were browsing through the market, “67 moles removed. 67 stitches from her nose job. 67 felony indictments-”

“The number... her address.” well that was original, “No, she would never do anything that prosaic.”

“Mhm.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“The only thing I care about is...” he paid for the bunch of apples and handed the bag to Ivy. She gave him a look of confusion, “For you. It's healthy.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“So, the only thing I care about apart from the married thing and the jail thing is the Christmas thing.”

“The Christmas thing?”

“I could never be with someone who doesn't like Christmas. The snow, the decorations, the joy-”

“I don't like Christmas.”

“You don't?”

Ivy pulled a tight lipped smile. “That settles it then, we will never be together.”

They stopped at the crossroad, where they were to go in opposite directions.

Ivy swayed on her feet for a couple of seconds, silently debating something. Then she propped herself u on tiptoes and kissed his cheek, “See you around.”

“Ivy?”

She turned.

“How about we see each other around noon-ish?” What was he doing?! “Tomorrow?”

“Um, I have a... a major business thing tomorrow. Saturday?”

“Yeah.”

“Great.” what the hell was he doing?

 


	14. Chapter 14

It had been a confusing couple of days for Henry. His correspondence with SeattleGirl67 was becoming more real, so to say. They were becoming more open about all those little things they used to be forbidden. At the same time, his relationship with Ivy was beginning to take an unexpected course. Not only did he catch himself getting ready, caring about what he would wear on their little rendezvous, but he realized that he enjoyed them quite. She had the sense of humor that always kept him smiling and her knowledge of books did expand beyond the book price, as had been his original belief. It was a strange moment for him to have such revelation, especially now that SeattleGirl67 finally agreed to meet him.

Ivy wondered if what they were doing was a date. She wasn't sure how to feel either way. He didn't specify it was, neither did she. They had a lovely lunch at the cute bistro not far from her building. And he did talk about SeattleGirl67, they both did, so she supposed her plan was going well.

On their walk towards her building, her phone started ringing. It was Anastasia, and Ivy knew exactly why she was calling. She was trying to ignore it but it, but her sister was relentless.

“Maybe you should answer?”

“No. It's not important.” she switched it to silent mode and put it back in her purse, “You were saying?”

“About the meet. I can't- it feels unreal, I guess.”

“You have to give it to her, though. Her timing is impeccable.”

“How so?”

“She's waited until you're primed. Until you were absolutely sure there was no other woman in your life you could possibly love.”

After a brief pause, he agreed.

“I suppose it's time for great changes all around.” her phone was buzzing again, she wanted to throw it away, “You know, sometimes I wonder.”

“About what?” he stopped and turned to her. They've arrived in front of her building.

“If I hadn't been 'Belfrey Books' and you hadn't been 'The Enchanted Forest' and you and I had just met...”

“At Roni's maybe?” the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

“Sure.”

He nodded. It's played on his mind for a while now. Uninvited thoughts would come and he would think of the possibilities. Maybe there was some alternative universe where they had met before they had here, “I know.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded again. There was hardly anything to say to this woman who was turning out to be something quite different than what he initially believed. However he had someone incredibly special, his soul mate he was sure, the dream that in just a few hours would become reality.

She placed her hand on his chest, “I don't know how you can quickly forgive her for standing you up, but not me for-“

“Ivy!” they heard a loud voice sound through the streets of Seattle, “Why the hell aren't you answering your phone?!”

Ivy shut her eyes for a moment. She hadn't noticed they were becoming misty, “Not now, Anastasia.”

“Yes now.” she tugged her aside, “Mother is beside herself.”

“Why?”

“Ivy!”

“There are more than enough perfectly good replacements for me.” she tried to keep her voice steady, “Just ask her.”

“That's not the point. You can't leave the family business now, you know I'll be taking time off work in a month or so.”

“So, this is about you?”

“No.”

“You quit your job?” Henry realized, still confused about the whole situation he was witnessing.

“Yes, but that's-“ she turned to her sister, “We'll continue this some other time and place, ok?”

“Not ok. Mother will never forgive you, if you walk away.”

Ivy felt dread fill her whole being. Her sister was right. But it was time to take the risk. She'd been planning this for months, every detail of her plan was set in motion, “You don't know what it's like working for her, I need to-“

“I work for her.”

“You work _with_ her, Ana! Don't you see how she treats me?” Ivy's voice was small, begging her sister to finally see what Victoria Belfrey's blatant favoritism was doing to her.

For a moment, Ivy believed Anastasia finally got it. Instead she chuckled, “You're being dramatic.”

Ivy sighed. She felt Henry's hand on her shoulder.

“I think you should leave.” he told the blonde as nicely as he could.

“Butt out of it.” she gave him a passing glance before continuing, “This guy, Ivy? You're doing this for him?”

“I'm taking charge of my own life for once. For myself.” no turning back now.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Ana.” Ivy warned. Rare were the moments of Anastasia's malice that could match the one of their mother. And whoever found themselves at their end, could not walk away unscathed.

“You think it's easy making it on your own? You're gonna drive yourself into bankruptcy after two months tops. So, just come with me and we'll attribute this to the momentary lapse of sanity.”

“Ana.”

“You're idly throwing your life away, damn it. And for what?”

“Ana, stop it.”

“So you can impress your internet guy?” she flung her hand in Henry's direction.

Ivy opened her mouth but nothing could come out. Ana did not just say that! She could neither move nor speak. Gone was the comforting hand, it fell limply by his side. Her sister kept talking.

“… if he wants you to do this, to turn your back on everything you’ve ever known, then he’s not worth-“ only then did Anastasia registered the changed expressions in both Henry and Ivy. Her hands flew to her mouth, like it could stop the already revealed, “Oh God, Ivy. I didn't mean to. I'm so-“ she tried to hold her sister's hand, but Ivy jerked away.

“Leave.”

Anastasia uttered the apology and rushed off.

Ivy looked at Henry. He was already looking at her, disappointment clear in his eyes. “SeattleGirl67?” the tone of his voice was dangerously calm.

She nodded.

“You are SeattleGirl67?”

“Henry, when we started I didn't-“

“When did you find out?”

“Our date at Roni's.”

“God, of course!” he looked up, everything becoming clear all of a sudden. All the pieces fit, “And you just came in to taunt me-“

“I didn't.”

“-made me feel like shit for days after. And then this elaborate whatever, while your sister and who knows who else knew about your little-“

“Nobody else knew.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“I would have told you myself today.”

“But you didn't. And the fact that you lied for so long-“

“You wouldn't have given us a chance otherwise.”

“I guess we will never know.” he watched her for a moment, maybe waiting for a response of some kind, but he wasn't sure she could now say anything to change his mind. He turned and walked away.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a bit of a time jump from the previous chapter.

“It’s the biggest house on the block. You can’t miss it.” the man told her and he was not exaggerating. It was an impressive white mansion, done in colonial style. Ivy stared at the pristine white door, number 108, for a long moment. It was now or never. She took a deep calming breath and rang the doorbell.

An elegant looking woman opened the door, “Yes?”

As if on a job interview, she straightened up, put on her best smile and extended her hand, “I am Ivy Belfrey. I came to speak with your son, Henry.”

The woman paused then put on a smile to match Ivy’s, “I’m his mother, Regina Mills. Please, come in.”

They walked through the foyer and into, what Ivy assumed was a study. It was decorated in a simple, yet sophisticated manner. Shelves were stacked with books and from what Ivy could notice without appearing nosy, it had everything from gardening books, biographies of distinguished people to classics. She figured that was where Henry developed his love for books.

“How would you like an apple cider while we wait? Henry's out at the moment, but I’ll call him right away.”

“I’d love to.”

“I make it myself. It’s an old recipe.” she poured her a glass, then dialed Henry.

Ivy never developed a taste for ciders, but she had to admit this one was quite good.

“You should come to the mansion now…” she started as he picked up, “I think this is more important… Ivy Belfry’s here...Yes... No… All right...”

All the while, Ivy was looking around. There were many pictures of Henry and his family.

“Exactly.” Regina put the phone down and smiled again, “He’s on his way.”

Ivy wasn’t sure what subjects Miss Mills and herself broached. She was trying hardest to be a good interlocutor but all the while she was practically jumping on every sound. Every car she heard drive down the street was sending tingles down her spine. When the door opened, Ivy hopped off the couch and nearly spilled her drink.

It suddenly became overwhelmingly cold and hot at the same time. And when not Henry, but a blonde woman, stepped into the study, Ivy could let herself breathe. Maybe all this was a mistake. She should just leave. There was still time. She barely registered the woman’s name and stuttered her own, for the pounding of her heart was yet to be subdued.

The three women continued their small talk, until Regina cleared her throat and said, “I hope we don’t have to worry about you, Miss Belfrey.”

“Excuse me?”

“First, you ruined our son’s business. I understand the business world quite well and I might be able to overlook that. But then you went and broke his heart. It baffles me, what more do you want?”

“I… it was not my intention-”

“Your intention is meaningless.”

“Ok, Regina. Tone it down.” Emma interfered, “Look, Ivy… we’re gonna need you to be honest with us ‘cause we’re very protective. So, we are gonna take a little break while I make coffee and you’re gonna tell us exactly what game you’re playing here.”

Oh, so that wasn’t Henry on the phone. It was disappointing how long it took her to put the pieces together. Had Ivy known she was entering the lion’s den she would have never got in. “Yes, Mrs. Swan.”

The good cop-bad cop routine was simply terrifying.

*

“There’s someone new in town.” Leroy announced as he burst into ‘Granny’s’.

Henry looked up from his laptop and shook his head. Some things never change, “I thought Astrid broke that habit of yours.”

“I’m not gossiping, kid. You know strangers mean trouble in this town.”

He reluctantly agreed, though it was now a blatant exaggeration.

“And it should interest you, most of all people.”

“It really doesn’t, Leroy.”

“Fine, maybe Ruby and Dorothy will hear me out.”

No, he would not be tempted. The latest gossip Leroy shared was that Ashley’s daughter started working at 'The Rabbit Hole' and they had a huge fight about it. No, this too was probably something unimportant and none of his business. Storybrooke had been one of the quietest of towns for a decade. Everything exciting and strange that could have happened, had happened already. On the other hand, what else was to do here and now anyway? Check if another publisher has rejected his book? “Ok, I’ll play. Who’s the stranger?”

“All right” he slid into the boot next to Henry, “So, Clark was just outside the 'Dark Star Pharmacy' when some fancy girl stepped out of even fancier car and asked him where the Mills residence was.”

“Last month, Baron Samdi from Brooksville came in for a meeting about the road repairs, and in the period of two hours ma got seven calls that Zodiac killer was in town.”

“You’re the one to talk. You thought Regina was the Evil Queen.”

“I was eleven!” he couldn’t get down that road with Leroy. The man was stubborn as a mule, “But, go on with your story.”

“Right, so then I walk past the mansion and your mom, Emma, drives in a hurry, she almost ran me over.”

“Mhm.” he nodded, only mildly interested.

“So I’m thinking, what does some Seattle girl want with both of your moms? And-”

“Wait, back up. What Seattle girl?”

“The girl, she mentioned Seattle. Keep up, kid.”

“Ok, Leroy.” he grabbed him by the collar. His heart was hammering, “I need you to tell me _exactly_ what the girl looks like.”

“I don’t know. Clark said dark hair, pretty, probably your age… you all right, kid? You look a bit pale.”

Henry shoved his laptop in the bag and jumped over the table, “Shit!” he cursed as he yanked the door open.

*

By the time he reached the mansion, he was completely out of breath. He really needed to work out more. He burst into the house with a bang, there was one room they would be in. He scurried into the study. And there, sitting across from his mom was Ivy Belfrey, gripping a glass with both her hands.

She stood up when she saw him. A shy smile was gracing her face, “Hey, Henry. I-”

He raised his hand to silence her, “What are you drinking?”

“Um, apple cider?”

“Really, mom?” he looked at his mother with disapproval, “And where’s ma?”

“Don’t be rude, Henry. Sit down, we have a guest.”

“Hey kid.” Emma walked in, “You’re back.”

Oh, he knew the routine well. His moms perfected it over the years it seemed effortless. He walked up to Ivy and took her by the hand, “You both promised you would stop interrogating my… people who visit me. Ivy and I need to talk in my room. Alone.” he announced and pulled Ivy upstairs.

He closed the door behind them, then he opened to check again. His moms weren’t on the stairs. Good. He leaned heavily against the door and exhaled. Ivy was standing in the middle of his room. She was shifting her weight from one leg to the other, drink still in her hand. Her eyes were darting from him to the blue wallpaper then back to him and to the stack of comic books on the shelf.

“I don’t know how long they’ve been interrogating you, but I came as soon as I realized.”

“It was a starting to get a little… intense. But it’s fine.”

“God knows what they said.”

“That I broke your heart and that I should stay away.”

“Wha- they are... No. No, you didn't. For the record, you didn't even chip it. Ok?” he paused, debating whether he sounded sure. “Anyway, you should have called first.”

“Would you have answered?” he deleted his e-mail account the day after he found out. He never returned her messages or calls.

He shoved his hands in pockets and looked out of the window, “Why are you here, Ivy?”

“I have a business proposal for you.”

He snorted. She couldn't be serious.

She approached him and leaned against the window frame, “After that falling out with my mother, Eloise Gardened from 'Gardener Books' approached me. Gave me a generous offer to work for her and bring in some of the authors.”

“Good for you.”

“Could have been. But I turned her down. And, I believe, she turned you down.”

He faced her, having an odd feeling of deja vu, “How do you know that?”

“I got your manuscript. 'Hedera Books'. That's my publishing house.”

“So, I emailed you. Again. Without knowing who you are? Again.”

“That's why I came, so as not to have the unfortunate repeat of- listen, I’m here to talk about your novel. I want to help you publish it.”

“No.”

“Nobody else will.”

“You don't know that.”

“I do. They think fairly tale inspired novels are passe. If they didn't, your manuscript never would have reached a hardly known new publisher such as myself.”

He hated that she had a point, “Then why would you take a risk on it? From the goodness of your heart?”

“Even if that were the case, you would never believe it. I want to publish it because It's good. Really good. And I know how to sell it.”

“Without revision?”

“With. It is a story about family, it should focus on that. But I'll tell you more if you accept.”

“I think... you should stay for diner.”

“Excuse me?”

“We're having a family dinner and I'm inviting you to join.”

“I don't understand.”

“See, Ivy.” he smiled, “If you are really serious about this, then you'll have no problem with that. After all, I am sure I will be easier to convince once I'm well fed.”

She narrowed her eyes. This was a challenge of sorts. He had an angle. If she had to conclude from what she's experienced so far, his family would most likely eat her alive before the main course is served, “Of course, I don't. I would love to continue the chat with your moms.”

“Great.” he opened the door and shouted, “Mom! Ivy's staying for diner.”


End file.
